Saving The Single Dad. Cheryl Harper
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punishable by jail time, but because of him, she wasn’t too late. Her admirer from Monday hadn’t shown up and the view of the lake with the mountains behind, that drew all their visitors, was as beautiful as ever.
She refilled Woody’s cup promptly and checked the time. They’d made it almost through her shift. It was clear he was hanging around with the hopes of being her chauffeur again. “Woody, you know I appreciated the ride you gave me yesterday. But I can’t take advantage of you any longer.” You generous old coot. “You saved me this morning. I can find my own way home. Walk will do me good.” She stretched and realized she was telling the truth.
He studied her face for a minute before he slapped both hands on the spotless counter and said, “Guess I’ll see if I can’t get out on that lake and rustle the wife up some dinner, then.”
Christina nodded. “That’s the perfect thing. Every woman loves a man who provides.” His shoulders straightened and he tugged his hat down, a man determined to prove his worth.
“You need a ride, you call me, Chrissy.” He waited for her nod and she wondered how she’d gotten lucky enough to find her own knight in camo ball cap. Since he was the only man who’d offered her a hand without a long list of demands in return, Woody was quickly edging out the slim competition for the top spot on her list of favorite people. It would be easy to take advantage of his kindness, but she’d learned the hard way not to depend on others when she could take care of herself.
As soon as she’d rung Woody up and cleared the last of her tables, she stuck her head in the manager’s office. “I’m out, Luisa, unless you need anything else.”
“Nope, get going. Can’t remember the last time you had three days off in a row,” Luisa said as she brushed her dark braid back over her shoulder. “That’s practically a vacation. Got any plans?”
“Not really.” Christina wasn’t sure she was all that happy about the time off, since money had become necessary as air, but given how she felt right now, she could sleep for days. “If something comes up, call me. I’ll still pick up any shifts I can.”
Otherwise, hitchhiking into town to beg for more work from Sharon would be her only option.
The thought of it made her tired.
By the time she walked back down to her cabin, those days off might be completely necessary. Her blisters had blisters. She’d made a nice wad of cash, but the hustle was a killer. “See you, girl.” Luisa handed her a check, and then turned to answer the ringing phone.
At some point, Christina need to fire up her laptop, do some hunting for a cheap car, but that would mean taking the long walk back up to the restaurant to use the Wi-Fi and she didn’t want to contemplate that.
Walking down the two-lane road, she realized what a beautiful day it was. Large, old growth trees meant the road was shady, and there was little traffic. She was in no hurry. And she did some of her best thinking along this stretch. This was something she’d learned: walking soothed her. This area was perfectly calm. As she listened to the birds chirping, the anxiety quieted. She had cash in her pocket, a place to live and a solid job. Things had been worse.
Leanne needed her help, and Christina couldn’t turn her back on those kids. With her free time, the solution of what to do about angry, self-righteous Brett Hendrix would appear. She hoped.
THE FIRST PHONE CALL Wednesday morning was a surprise, but Brett had turned the ringer on his phone off while he listened to a lecture on the importance of diversity in hiring, so he didn’t have a chance to answer it. There was no voice mail. He decided it wasn’t an emergency and didn’t duck out of the lecture.
The thing about both of the sessions he’d already sat through was that he understood the reasoning behind diversity and drug task force de-escalation training, but they were already pursuing both at the reserve. He was living it day to day. Were there any helpful hints or tried-and-true tactics proven to improve either? Not really.
He stifled a sigh as he studied the course outline for the next day of training.
The second time his phone vibrated with an incoming call, he turned it over to see the Sweetwater school district’s number. He closed his eyes for a long moment. Parker’s cough had turned into something more. Of course it had.
And the school was calling him instead of his mother. That was the course he and the principal had agreed on the last time this happened, but it was going to mean an inconvenient string of phone calls. He’d taken an inconspicuous spot in the back row out of fear that this might happen, so he quietly stepped outside.
He hit Redial and paced back and forth in front of the line of tiny windows looking out over the packed parking lot. Praying that his mother would be able to handle whatever the emergency was didn’t help much, but it was all he had.
“Sweetwater Schools,” Janet Abernathy chirped in her perky phone voice. “How may I direct your call?”
“Janet, it’s Brett Hendrix. I assume Parker’s developed a fever and needs to go home?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to imagine how much stress this situation was going to cause.
“Oh yes, he’s a sick little boy. Nurse says he should go to the doctor.” Janet sighed. “Honey, I tried calling your mama, too, but I didn’t get an answer. That’s why you got the double ring.”
The thing about living in a small town like Sweetwater was that everybody was in everyone’s business. Most of the time, that irritated him to no end. Sometimes it could be a help, though.
“I’m in Nashville for training.” Brett pressed his fingers over his dry eyes and tried not to wish for a wife who would help out with things like this. That was wasting brainpower. “I’ll get her on the phone and send her over.”
“Okay, then,” Janet said. “Right now, he’s stretched out on the bed in the nurse’s office, cold compress on his forehead, but I can tell he feels awful. He didn’t even say thank you when I gave him his grape juice and that is not Parker.” Her concern was sweet and easy to hear. If he could pick a grandmother out of a catalog for his kids, she would sound like Janet Abernathy in that moment: caring, steady, ready to jump in with both feet. “Should I call Riley out of class?”
That would be a big help if his daughter could be forced to care about anything other than her own aches. Five years ago, Riley had babied her brother like her favorite toy. Now Brett had a hard time imagining Riley would do anything other than make things worse. Besides that, she was a kid. It wasn’t fair to expect her to take his place. “Not right now. Let me get my mother on the phone. If it will be any longer than fifteen minutes before she’s there, I’ll be in touch.”
As he ended the call, Brett checked the time. Almost noon. Surely his mother was out of bed for the second time by now. She got up to get the kids out the door, and then went back to bed until a “reasonable” hour.
“This better be reasonable,” Brett muttered as he punched his mother’s number. The contrast between Janet Abernathy’s sweet concern and what he expected from his mother was amazing in an awful way. Brett tried to clear his mind. When she didn’t answer the first call, his annoyance ticked up a notch. His job was important, and this was a requirement for the promotion he’d lucked into.
On the third try, his jaw was locked so tightly with tension that it was almost impossible to speak when she answered by saying, “What is it? What is so important?” It didn’t take two seconds to understand why she hadn’t answered immediately.
“Are you at the casino, Diane?” Brett asked. Not that he needed to. Someone close by hit a jackpot, and he could hear the victory music and tinny sounds of fake coins hitting metal.
“I am, but I’ll be home in time to meet the bus.” Her quick answer was evidence that she’d spent some time considering what